


Ginger beer onboard

by CannibaLilly



Series: Physiological Differences [5]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Drunkenness, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 12:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibaLilly/pseuds/CannibaLilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots about the differences in human and Time Lord physiology.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ginger beer onboard

**Author's Note:**

> This will make more sense once you've read the first Parts of this series!
> 
> Tiny spoiler for The Time Of The Doctor, hardly worth mentioning.

The TARDIS was comfortably trundling through the vortex. It was her equivalent to a catnap and usually she was woken up by her thief switching her levers and pressing her buttons, telling her it was about time to search a new adventure.

This time she woke up because the Doctor rambled through one of her selves. Usually, this was no reason for her to pay special attention to him, he used to look for things now and then to tinker, but the place he was searching was odd.

It was her alcohol larder.

Curiously she watched him for a moment. Like a mother who’d found her two-year-old playing with the telephone, she wondered what he could try with it and how exactly it would go wrong.  
Finally she couldn’t contain this curiosity any longer and mentally asked him: _“Did you lose something?”_  
“Not exactly. I know I’ve put it here, but I can’t find it. Did you store the ginger beer away?”

Huh? This was really odd.  
The Doctor sensed her confusion and explained: “I know, I know. I haven’t forgotten what happened last time, but this is an emergency.”  
Not happy with where this was going the TARDIS slid a few of the boxes in her larder into his sight. They contained different kinds of alcohol he could always drink and get rid off when he wanted to. She knew her thief sometimes had the craving to get himself into a state of intoxication; this was why she _had_ all those different kinds of alcohol on board.

Wearily, the Doctor ruffled his hand through his hair.  
“Those won’t do, old girl. I need the ginger beer we hid,” he explained, obviously not in the mood to argue with her – it seemed he had had this argumentation with himself already.

Half-heartedly trying to change his mind, the TARDIS let a bottle of his beloved banana-daiquiri roll forward on a board. He recognized it and smiled tiredly.  
“Sorry, there’s no other option for me today. It’s for Donna, you see?”  
This caught the ship’s attention. She cared immensely for her Noble Lady and would support everything that would help her.  
“She’s been so melancholic lately and when I asked her what’s wrong she- well at first she denied being sad at all, you know how she is.”  
Indeed, the TARDIS knew her too well.  
“But then she admitted she’s feeling a little useless. Can you believe that? Who could be more of a help and support than she is to me?!”  
The TARDIS couldn’t think of one.

“I guess I’ve overdone the whole… emphasise of certain Time Lord characteristics a bit.”  
 _“You’ve shown off without recognizing you’ve hurt her feelings.”_  
“No! I- well, I suppose you could say it like that.”  
Ok, this made sense. He wanted to make up for this, but in how far did drinking support his apology?  
“Do you remember when Donna had had one too many? She thought she could help me one day when I’d be a bit… drunk. So I’ll just take a quick sip of ginger beer, show her that I really need her and we’ll be fine.”  
The TARDIS didn’t like this plan. Not because she wouldn’t support any kind of help for her Noble Lady but because she knew her thief tended to underestimate alcohol a little. Maybe because he usually didn’t have to worry about any consequences; the wish to be sober again was enough for him to get rid of any problems.

“Don’t worry! I made the mistake to underestimate this stuff before. I’m older and wiser now. Trust me, nothing can go wrong.”

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Donna poured the steaming water from the kettle into two cups. Making tea, running alongside the Doctor – lately she felt like this was everything she could do.  
What else was there he needed her for anyway? He kept saying that he did and Donna knew he really wanted her to stay, she was grateful for that, but he simply dreaded the loneliness.  
If he had had the choice between Donna and someone who was at least almost a match to him, he would hardly choose her, would he?

Those last weeks had managed to make Donna very insecure. Even while the Doctor seemed human to her she’d often felt inferior to him, but now that he’d shown her all these abilities… She simply couldn’t see what her place should be by his side.  
There were moments when she couldn’t even remember why he’d invited her to come along in the first place.

Listlessly Donna raised the cups and startled. Shocked she dropped the cups that hit the ground and instantly broke; spilling the hot tea everywhere.  
A frustrated growl escaped her throat; she didn’t even seem to be able to make a bloody cup of tea.  
It took her a moment to realise what had actually startled her. The TARDIS seemed to poke at her mind. It was a nudging feeling inside of her that didn’t really come from within. The ship urged her to go… where?

“Is something wrong, love?” Donna asked, facing the ceiling. Long ago, she’d realised that the ship had a consciousness of its own but they were yet to actually talk to each other. The TARDIS made herself heard by planting emotions, more shadows of emotions, in Donna’s mind. This was urgency. But what for?

Donna‘s stomach tingled uncomfortably. She felt as if she needed to be somewhere but had forgotten where this somewhere was. Overwhelmed by the feeling, she ignored the mess at her feed and left the kitchen. The TARDIS egged her on, making her feel better or worse depending on where Donna walked. It felt like a creepy kind of blind man’s bluff that took place in her mind.  
Warmer. Colder. At ease. Restless.

 

Finally Donna found herself standing in front of a small room. She knew it resembled a cinema. Well, at least a private one. Comfortable arm chairs, a sofa and a big screen for movies of all kinds.  
The feeling of urgency positively zoomed through her veins. She had to be here.

She pushed the doors to the cinema open and rushed inside. The feeling ebbed away, leaving Donna standing in the middle of the dim room, her socks soaking with the spilled tea and no clue where to proceed from here.

“What’s it? Why did you bring me here?” she asked the ship when the sound of another voice made any answer unnecessary. Donna recognized it right away.  
“Doctor?” she asked, looking about for the Time Lord. He didn’t answer but it was his voice she could hear murmuring to himself. Slowly Donna walked around a big brownish sofa and spotted her Martian. He’d crouched down in front of a giant shelf with tapes, CDs, DVDs, microchips and other mediums Donna had never seen before.

“Err, Doctor?” she asked softly. It looked like he was about to watch a film and usually she would have left him alone; if he didn’t ask her to join him, he probably wanted to be alone… but there was still the TARDIS’s plead for her to come here fast.

Instead of an answer his murmuring grew louder.  
“No. No. Nope. Oh, Rassilon, no! You look ri- Nop-y. And you. Why did I keep _you_?!... Possible blackmail maybe…”

While talking to no-one he started throwing the movies he’d sorted out over his shoulder. At first they just slid over the carpet to Donna’s feet but then, in a moment of inattention in which Donna crept closer to watch him, a Blue Ray slipcase hit Donna’s head and killed every intention of waiting for an answer.

“Ouch! What the hell are you doing there, dumbo?!” she yelled.  
The Doctor winced and, still in his crouching position, he turned around. It took him slightly longer than Donna’s patience could stand, so she was at the end of her tether when he finally faced her and gave her a surprised smile.  
“Donna!” he exclaimed happily and completely oblivious to what he’d done. The ice was getting thinner.

With a trembling voice Donna repeated: “I asked: what _the hell_ are you doing there?”  
“I’m looking for a movie,” he told her amused, obviously he had no idea how she could overlook that.

Donna opened her mouth to remark that she could well see that and that she hadn’t come here to have a nice chitchat with him, but then realised that she had no real clue what she had come here for.  
The TARDIS had brought her here, giving her a feeling as if the Doctor was on the brink of death, but she was far too annoyed with him to accept the logical consequence to argue with the ship instead.  
It was easier to have a row with him. He could answer, he could apologize and, most importantly, he could be hurt by a slipcase hitting _his_ head.

“Yeah, well… thanks for the information Mr obvious!” she ranted. “But why are you aiming them at my head!? Besides, this room looks like a mess! All those movies and cases and cans lying on the floor. It looks like it’s been hit by a bomb!”

Sheepishly the Doctor looked around as if he’d just realised the chaos and then, suddenly, glared at Donna with a worried look.  
“I hit you! I’m so sorry, Donna, I didn’t see you standing there!” he spluttered out.  
This nudging feeling came back to her. This time it came from herself and it told her she was overlooking something… but what?

The Doctor stumbled to his feet and after a moment in which he had to struggle for balance he finally managed to rush over to Donna to check if he’d seriously hurt her.  
“I’m so so sorry, Donna,” he mumbled and carefully placed his hand under her chin to turn her head to the scarce light in this room. Standing so close to him, Donna could see his restless look and even recognise a new smell around him. Well, even ancient aliens were allowed to change their after-shave, weren’t they?

“It’s a little red… Oh, that’ll make a bruise. Donna, I really really had no idea you were there. I need to be more careful, I could have hit your eye!”  
Donna frowned at him. Blimey he was almost sobbing about that. Now she felt a little guilty for yelling at him. He hadn’t recognized her after all.

“It’s not that bad; really, it could have been worse” she tried to calm him. “I mean if you’d hit me with the Harry Potter collection box I’d be dead now,” she joked.  
“See, I almost killed you!” he exclaimed, shocked this time. Donna took a step back from him and eyed him up, for a moment suspecting if he was just pulling her leg but then another thought dawned on her. A thought that included the empty cans and the new smell.

“Are you drunk?” Donna glared at him. The Doctor instantly switched from worry- to defence- mode.  
“What? No!” Suddenly he seemed to remember something: “Err- I mean, maybe. A little. Like you were before, I thought that could help.”  
“Help with what?” she asked sternly.  
“Not sure… I had it just a minute ago…,” he put a thoughtful look on as if thinking hard but it took him longer than usual.

After another minute of silence Donna waved her hand in front of his eyes.  
“Are you still with me?” she mocked. He swayed a little and had to grab Donna’s arm not to fall. Her move seemed to have sufficed to destroy the rest of his balance.  
“Sorry, what?”  
“Christ, you’re completely hammered,” Donna had to help him walk to the sofa.

“I have no idea what you did that for, but obviously you overdid it a little. Get rid of the alcohol before you start singing crappy shanties or puke on my shirt or something.”  
“Can’t,” he told her and a grin spread over his face that was meant to look sly, but ended up kind of goofy. “That’s part of the plan I forgot.”

“What do you mean you _can’t_?!” Donna glared at him. “I saw you doing it! We were polishing all this high-voltage booze off and you were completely fine just because you kept shrugging it off!”  
“That just works with normal alcohol.”  
“And what’s abnormal alcohol?!”  
He leaned some closer to her to whisper: “Ginger beer,” with a creepy voice that faded into a giggle.  
“You are kidding me! You can’t get pissed on beer! Gramps let me take a sip from his beer when I was 12 or so and it didn’t do anything.”

Donna got up from the sofa to look at the cans the Doctor had dropped on the floor to see for herself.  
“I can,” he protested from the sofa. After Donna had stop propping him he’d fallen back against the backrest. “It’s got something to do with the respa- respi-,” he frowned at the mere complexity of the word. “The bypass-thingy and the two hearts. They pump it riiiight into my head.”

Donna stooped down to pick up a can and the Doctor made a curious sound that came close to a growl, she decided to simply ignore it.  
“Did I ever tell you that you’re brilliant?” the Doctor asked from the sofa.  
“All the time,” Donna simply replied because she felt he needed this concession now.  
Still focused on the can she tried to think of some alien alcohol the Doctor may had mentioned that was especially strong so it would even affect him. She couldn’t think of one.

“Gooood becaushu aaare,” he slurred.  
Donna smelled at the can. Hmm, smelled like normal ginger beer. Judging by the can it was probably from the future earth but it still was the same stuff she knew from home.

“And really nice… well also angry, sometimes I mean, but in a niiice way. Ya now?”  
“Uh-hu.”  
This meant he really was drunk on beer. And there was nothing he could do to make it stop. Bugger!  
“And so gorgeous, do you know that? I haven’t seen such a nice rear since Cleo, oh she hated me calling her that,” the Doctor chuckled to himself and Donna nodded, semi-distracted by the problem at hand when she suddenly glared at him.

“What did you just say?!”  
“I was just thinking: Oh, I don’t usually say that out loud, but then I thought: If she doesn’t want me to look at her bottom what is she wearing this skirt for?”  
With a burning face Donna opened her mouth to shoot an answer back but the Doctor kept babbling.  
“I s’pose you could wear it because you like it… but I bet you don’t like it half as much as I do. Looking at it, I mean, I’m not too eager on wearing it.”

 _Calm down_ , Donna, she told herself. _If you kill him you’re stuck here, you haven’t had enough flying lessons, yet_.  
“How many have you had?” she asked with a trembling voice instead, her hand went down to the rim of her skirt to pull it down a little farther. Secretly she prayed for the Doctor’s sake that he was really and completely pissed so he wasn’t responsible for what left his mouth. He certainly wasn’t aware of it anyway.

A long pause in which he used his fingers to count followed.  
“3!” he finally announced.  
3.  
3 small cans of beer and he was completely out of his mind. It even seemed like it was getting worse the more time past as if there was still some alcohol in his blood stream that hadn’t reach its final destination, yet.  
Oh sh- sugar.

Donna rubbed her forehead and tried to think. After all the years of being a teenager with a mother like Sylvia she had to know a secret way to get rid of alcohol fast. Everything she could think of that really worked was time.  
Oh, the irony thinking that onboard of a time machine that could do nothing about it.

“Alright, Spaceman, let’s get you to bed and sleep it off. Tomorrow you can tell me why you drank the only alcohol in the world that you can’t shrug off while I skin you alive, how does that sound?” Donna turned back to the sofa to find it empty.  
After a second of panic she spotted the Doctor in front of another shelf with movies.

“What are you doing?!” she snapped.  
“Looking for a movie.”  
“Yeah, we’ve had that conversation before,” Donna remarked.  
With a deep sigh she tried to calculate her options. She could hardly force him to go to bed and if she was really lucky he would find what he was searching for and fall asleep while watching a film.

The problem was that slowly he seemed to suffer from tunnel vision. He held every cover very close to his eyes and it still took him minutes to decide.  
Rolling her eyes, Donna took pity on him and pulled a DVD out of his hands.

“Just tell me which one you need,” she said and sat down on the floor next to him.  
“A vampire film,” he told her. “I wanted to show it to you since forever! I watched it with Martha once and she was positively in love with it. She even said I look like one of the actors.”  
“No wonder she loved it, the poor girl,” Donna mumbled to herself. She knew well about Martha’s obsession with a certain Martian and how it hadn’t ended well for her.

“An actor who looks like you? Hmm, I’d say your almost-lethal Harry Potter collection. I just recently thought you look like that bloke in part 4. You know, the one with the tongue issue?”  
The Doctor made an offended sound. “He doesn’t look like me at all! No, it was a vampire movie anyway.”

“Let’s see what we’ve got here then,” Donna chuckled and looked at the “V” board for “Vampire”.  
“Good old Dracula maybe?”  
He snorted. “Do I look like Dracula? No! One from your time!”  
“But there are millions of vampire movies since this stupid book about this sparkling git was published!” she exclaimed annoyed.  
“Please don’t tell me it’s Twilight you were searching for!?”  
“No-o!” the Doctor whined. “One with a character that looks like me-he.”

“Right now? Sorry, can’t think of a vampire movie with Charley Sheen in it.”  
The Doctor really seemed offended by that. He snatched the movie Donna was holding from her hands and pouted: “If you don’t want to help me at least stop making rude comments!”

Donna made room for him to continue the search on his own, but in his current state he could hardly pull out a DVD without two others falling to the ground. She watched him grumpily looking for the mysterious movie while his ability to read clearly had abandoned him.

She just couldn’t think of a reason why the Doctor, who always made sure he could emphasis his intelligence, would drink himself senseless.  
Sure, he’d done stupid things before out of mere boredom – Donna kept mocking him that one day he’d try and shave his head just because there was nothing else left to do – but this hardly looked like an attempt to have some fun.  
Drinking for fun was best done with friends or at least at a party but not alone in a poky room before looking for something... What had the silly prawn been up to?

“It’s no use, Spaceman. Let’s watch it tomorrow when you’re sober again,” Donna proposed.  
“Go to bed, I’ll be alright,” he replied and almost sounded firm if not for a sudden hiccup sabotaging him.  
Why was he so annoyed that she didn’t want to support this silly search?

Fed up with him and his irrational drunkenness, Donna got up, ready to leave him to whatever the ginger beer would do to him. It wasn’t her fault if he was doing something so silly as to drink the only alcohol that could actually harm him.  
No. This was none of her business. Who cared what would happen to him.

In the end it was the pathetic little hiccup that made her stop and turn around. He really looked pitiful down there on the ground. Almost as pitiful as she’d felt the day her mother had called and the Doctor had done everything he could to cheer her up... without even demanding an explanation for why she was sad.

“There’s Fight Night,” Donna mumbled, slowly walking back to him. “I guess you could say this weirdo in leather pants looks remotely like you. Just remotely, mind you! He isn’t half as skinny as you are and he can hold his liquor.”  
“That’s it! Now we just have to find it,” he cheered and with the forgiveness of someone who was drunk as a lord he forgot he was cross with her. Well, or he’d really just forgotten it. Donna decided to give him the credit for not demanding an apology anyhow.

“Need help?” she asked softly. The Doctor budged over for her to sit down and, after she’d pulled him back up from his back, they searched for the movie together.

“Always,” he said out of the blue and Donna shot him a side-glance.  
“Always what?” she asked the Doctor who was suddenly very focused on his task.  
“Need your help. I always do.”  
“You’re just a bit drunk and this movie seems to be a ninja when it comes to hiding. You’re alright on your own,” Donna mumbled, not sure if this was the best time to discuss this matter.  
“No!” he objected. Donna turned around to him, surprised by his sudden firmness. This didn’t just seem to be a mood swing she owed to the ginger beer, the Doctor really struggled to make something clear to her.

“It doesn’t matter what I am or what I can. I do need you, Donna Noble. To stop me and to support me. I don’t even know for what else because it’s so much! For company and for sanity and… and to search weird movies with me while I’m drunk on this stupid beer we’ll dump on the next planet we land on, which is probably… Clom. Not the best idea maybe, especially if they figure why I wanted to get rid of it and...” He blinked puzzled.  
“You- You’ve forgotten what you were saying in the first place, haven’t you?” she asked softly.  
“I know it was important… Did I manage to get the point across before I spaced out?” he asked worried and for some reason Donna had to admit that he had.  
This confession or plead or whatever it had been that was completely drowned in ginger beer, had told Donna that he really meant it. That the thought of losing her scared him immensely. Not the one of being on his own, but of being without her.

“Yeah, I got what you meant,” she told him and blinked a tear away.  
“But it made you sad!” he state shocked.  
“No, it made me very happy, you silly brilliant Martian,” she replied and pressed a kiss to his cheek to wipe the confusion from his face.  
It was pretty wet because of her tears but she couldn’t think of a moment when she’d felt so close to her Martin before.

She pulled back and gave him a grateful smile he replied somewhat hesitantly, sometimes Donna wondered what was going on in this head of his.  
“Glad to hear it worked,” he mumbled and leaned in closer until his head rested against Donna’s shoulder. The poor Martian really had lost all sense of balance it seemed.

“I can’t stand seeing you sad.”  
Donna looked down at him, touched by the sadness in his own voice while saying that.  
“Same here, sunshine,” she told him softly. Raising her voice to more than a whisper seemed unnecessary with their noses practically touching.  
She’d never paid special attention to it, but from up close she could count those small freckles on his face.

Catching herself staring, Donna blushed and decided it really was about time to go back searching a certain movie.  
“Need help sitting up?” she offered and was surprised to find him shaking his head.  
“Didn’t fall over,” he admitted, focusing his dark eyes on hers.  
Donna felt his breath against her skin while he spoke, it smelled distinctively like ginger beer.

 _I haven’t had this stuff in ages_ , she thought, her eyes fluttering shut as his mouth found hers.  
Her tummy tried a little back flip inside of her and her fingers had to curl into the soft carpet so she wouldn’t simply fall over herself.  
Before that could happen the Doctor propped her with his hands on her arms.

She leaned in closer to let her mouth softly embrace his lower lip. He made a muffled noise that sounded faintly like a mix of approval and a dying hiccup, but it was enough to pull Donna back to reality.

Abruptly she sat back from the Doctor who swayed a little in his struggle for balance.  
He blinked confused as if cruelly being woken up from a pleasant dream but Donna’s thoughts were rushing through her head, because this was just the problem. He was _dreaming_. Almost. He was completely drunk, not even able to find a stupid movie and she expected him to make such a decision?

“Sorry,” she whispered shocked.  
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.  
“No, you-“ Donna felt choked so it took her some effort getting the sentence out properly. “No, you didn’t do anything, but we- we were searching for your film, remember?”

She was right, he wasn’t himself and she’d made use of that.  
Trying to distract herself, Donna returned to looking for this Vampire DVD.  
 _Find the film, get him to bed, get yourself to bed_. She tried to provide herself with some tasks just to keep functioning, at least one of them had to.

“Donna, I’m s-“  
“Don’t be,” she interrupted him. “You didn’t do anything. You’re drunk and tomorrow this will be nothing but a blurry mess in your memory. Not even that. It never happened, alright?”  
“I kissed you,” he objected weakly.  
“No!” Donna’s voice had slipped up an octave. “I kissed your cheek. That was everything. The rest was your imagination.”  
“Donna,” he tried.  
“Where is this silly movie?!” she cried out.

In her confusion and frustration she grabbed Nosferatu and threw it across the room. “Why can’t stuff be where it’s supposed to be?! It’s such a chaos here!” Her voice gave up and faded into a silent sobbing.  
 _Well done, Donna_ , she scolded herself mentally. _So very well done_.  
She hung her head so her hair would hide the sight of her tears. Why did this shock her at all? Stuff like that happened alcohol-related and she never liked him in that way, so why did it hurt her like that?

While trying to pull herself together, in vain, she felt the Doctor move away from her side just to crawl back a minute later. Walking didn’t seem possible anymore for both of them.  
Slowly she raised her head to find out what he was doing. He fought against another can of ginger beer.  
Maybe he had already forgotten everything again... More likely he was trying to do something to cheer Donna up, she had no idea, maybe none of the above.

Finally the lid of the can gave in and the foamy liquid fizzed out. The Doctor caught it with his mouth and after a sip shuddered as if he’d drunken pure whiskey. Donna pulled it away from him before he could get any more of it.

“You’re already drunk as a _Time_ Lord, are you trying to get yourself killed?” she sniffled annoyed. The anger about his careless behaviour temporarily drowned the anger she felt for herself. Frustrated she raised the can to her mouth and emptied it with one sip.  
“Donna!” he exclaimed.  
The ginger licked her lips, lowering the can.

“Don’t get your knickers into a twist. It’s beer for heaven’s sake and for a human that’s almost water.”  
A lie.  
She felt the warmth of alcohol spreading from her stomach all through her body, but it was just this feeling of warmth killing the coldness inside of her, that had followed the kiss, she had needed.

“We can watch the movie some other day,” he offered and Donna nodded distantly. Later she realised this offer to drop his oh-so-important plan was probably something really generous to his drunken mind.

“Are you tired?” she asked hopefully.  
“No, I feel just a bit sick,” he admitted and when Donna looked at him she recognized his face had lost all colour.  
“You look horrible!” she jumped to her feet and carefully helped him to get up, too. Now wasn’t the time to feel hurt or confused, she just hoped he hadn’t gotten himself an alcohol poisoning.  
“Let’s get you to bed then-“ Her instructions were interrupted by the Time Lord vomiting over Donna’s shirt.  
“Sorry,” he whispered.  
“I had this coming,” Donna replied tiredly. Now she looked pretty much like she felt.  
“It’s just too bad you decided to go for puking instead of an old shanty. Anyways: Bed! Allons-y.”


End file.
